


You Are How My Life Begins

by shangrilove



Category: Football RPF
Genre: Adoption, Alternate Universe, Child Abandonment, Child Abuse, Childhood Sweethearts, Coming Out, Coming of Age, Drama, Family, Football, Gen, Healing, Inner Demons, Journey of Life, Liverpool, M/M, Redemption, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-02-17
Updated: 2013-02-23
Packaged: 2017-11-29 13:31:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,911
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/687516
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shangrilove/pseuds/shangrilove
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Running is not freedom, Fernando Torres knows that better than anyone. His unpredictable journey, from Madrid to Liverpool and beyond, snapshots from the life of a boy who grew to be more than just a man.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. If it doesn't hurt, it's not love

**Author's Note:**

> This is my baby of all stories; the one I worked on the hardest and cherish the most. Loosely based off [this prompt](http://footballkink2.livejournal.com/9132.html?thread=3349164#t3349164), but like all stories, it diverges from what it was meant to be. Also posted at [ my LJ](http://shangrilove.livejournal.com/4600.html). Fernando and Sergio are the same age (I used their real birthdays); Xabi and Stevie are 15 years older. Tweets are meant to be read from bottom to top.

**Liverpool signs 20-year-old Nando Alonso to professional contract**

Ron Liddle

Oct 12, 2006 

Liverpool Football club has just signed Nando Alonso, a product of the youth academy to a long term contract thought to be worth 17 million pounds over four years.

“I never thought I’d get a chance, to play in the red of Liverpool.” The young player said at the press conference where Liverpool broke the news. “And now that I have this opportunity, I’ll try my best to not let the fans down.”

A number of sources claim that Alonso was only able to break into the first team through nepotism. There have been some discrepancies about how he came to join Liverpool Academy at the age of 16.  His father, Steven Gerrard, is a youth coach for the Academy.

“Yes, the usual entry age into the academy is in the early teens.” Mr. Gerrard said in a phone interview. “But Nando showed extraordinary skill with the ball as an amateur. He went to a normal public school and played on the school’s football team. He was actually scouted by a colleague of mine, and I didn’t know until they asked if he was my son.”

Kenny Dalglish, director of the Liverpool Youth Academy released this statement. “We give trials to kids of all ages based on the skill they show. Sometimes the greatest players don’t get discovered until they’re older. This is what happened with Nando and Liverpool is glad to have recognized his football prowess. Who his father is had no consideration with his acceptance.”

After progressing through the Academy, Alonso established himself as a regular member of the Under-21 side that last season pulled off an upset against PSG in the NextGen Series Championship. This was the first time in over a decade that Liverpool’s U-21 have won the youngster’s version of the prestigious Champion’s League. Alonso scored a brace at the final in Paris, with Liverpool winning 4-2 with goals also coming from Sterling and Ngog.

The young striker has scored 27 goals in 41 appearances for Liverpool’s U-21 team. Since being called up for the senior squad in May 2006, he has scored 6 goals in 10 appearances, with 5 of those coming off the bench as a substitute. These numbers hint at a promising future on the field for Liverpool’s new striker.

 

Source: The Telegraph

 

* * *

 

 

“Nando Alonso.” The judge calls out. “You have been granted emancipation from your parents José and Flori Torres. You will be under the legal guardianship of Steven Gerrard and Xabi Alonso until you reach the age of majority of 18 when you will reach legal adult status.” She bangs her gavel and the sound echoes around the empty courtroom. “Motion settled.”

 

There are only two other people there, Xabi and Steven come towards him in and ~~Fernando~~ , no it’s Nando now, doesn’t realize he how badly he is shaking until they embrace him. Warm, steady hands pull him in and when he opens his mouth, nothing comes out except for a sob.

 

“Hey kiddo, it’s okay.” Mr. Alonso, who insists on being called Xabi (“Mr. Alonso makes me sound senile”), pats him on the head. Fernando just cries harder, he’s horrified at the tearstains on Xabi’s meticulous suit and tries to pull away, but the older man’s arms are warm but firm, letting the boy sob into his chest.

 

On his other side, Stevie is also having a hard time holding it together. “Welcome to the family,” he croaks out and pulls the kid closer to him. It’s a sign of how far Nando’s come, how much he already loves these men who were mere strangers barely months ago, when he doesn’t even flinch as he breathes in the clean scents of his newfound parents.

 

Nando wants to say something, he wants to say _thank you for rescuing me because I would probably be dead without you two_ but he just can’t get any words out. He wants Xabi and Stevie to know how utterly grateful he is to them, for giving him a home when he didn’t have one, for loving him despite everything.

 

For the first time since he’s left Spain, Nando feels something like happiness. Something he thought was gone forever, that night he stumbles away from Sergio’s house. A night that has turned into a painful memory now, and he hope it’ll stay buried in his mind in the years to come.

 

“Why don’t we celebrate with some ice cream?” Xabi smiles at the two men that he loves, one being his husband, the other a boy that already feels like a son despite the short time they’ve know him. He’s not the emotional type that Stevie and Nando are, but it’s impossible to suppress the happiness that he is emitting.

 

“That’s a great idea,” his husband exclaims. “Let’s go to the gelato place, we haven’t taken Nando down to the docks yet.”

 

Nando doesn’t get a chance to protest before his new guardians grab each of his hands and they walk out of the building into a rare day of sunshine in the Merseyside. He’s still overwhelmed by the decision; it’s been the best thing that’s happened to him since - well it feels like he hasn’t had anything good in a long time. He briefly thinks about a set of hips, swinging to the beat of flamenco, but that memory is fuzzy. He is brought back to reality by the warmth in the fingers clutching his hand, and the two solid men at each side chase those thoughts away. Surrounded by Stevie and Xabi, there’s a feeling in his chest that he didn’t think he would ever feel again.

 

~

 

Despite how much he bitches about it, Sergio does actually enjoy his job. The clients are a lot of fun, when they’re not fussing over unnoticeable skips in the track (what skips, they’ve gone digital) and yelling at him to redo the same stanza for the thirtieth time. Most of the time the music is interesting, even if it’s not his style, but above all, he loves how he can help other people channel their creativity into something material.

 

The people who work at Navas Recording aren’t bad either. The owner Jesus isn’t much older than Sergio and has a pretty keen eye for people who are good both with people and music. They met once at a local music festival and gave him a job when he decided to drop out of university. Sergio never did like studying.

 

The other full time employee is Mesut, a kid from Germany who hitchhiked his way to Madrid and never went back. He still stumbles through his Spanish, but the way he layers tracks, blending bass and vocals with the beat of the drums, it’s pure magic. He does DJ gigs on the side too, and once in a while he drags Sergio to an underground event brimming with people with too many piercings and tattoos. Still, he’s gained a certain fondness for trashy europop.

 

Sergio’s life is simple and full of routine. He goes to work five times a week, though sometimes the hours are a little odd. Every morning, he goes to the local gym and runs for an hour followed by a round of weights. Sometimes Mesut joins him there, he’s trying to get a six-pack to impress the girls. On weekends, he goes to local gigs. Madrid has a fairly big indie scene going on, and some of them have real talent to make it big. Sergio is always impressed how some of these bands keep on pushing, working crappy day jobs just so they can get their music out.

 

The only thing that disrupts the carefully scheduled life he has sets up are these triggers Sergio has. There are no patterns to them, these sudden bouts of incredible loneliness and a chest pain that can’t be explained medically. Anything can set them off, no matter how minor, sometimes he can’t even explain it. The way a customer’s brown eyes crinkle in the sunlight, a new trainer at the gym with freckled cheeks, or even walking by a local park and seeing a group of kids kicking around a ball. Whatever it is, the result is always the same.

 

That night, he’ll go to one of the seedy clubs that litter his neighborhood and pick a guy. Any guy will do, there are usually a dozen of the really desperate ones who come up to him, and he picks the easiest of the bunch. He never asks for names, doesn’t remember if they tell him. And when he’s done he always kicks them out. Sergio’s gained a certain reputation around that crowd, they call him _Gitano_ , the gypsy who uses and never goes back for the same one.

 

~ 

 

Stevie has no idea why he’s standing here, holding a glass of vintage wine that he can’t appreciate (give him a pint at the pub any day) and chatting to a bloke who doesn’t give a damn about football. It’s one of those Liverpool cooperate meet and greets with sponsors and other equally important people, but he just doesn’t give a damn. The only reason he’s here because the head of the Youth Academy came down with a kidney stone and Stevie is the only one they could find on such a short notice. That and the fact that everyone knows he’d bleed for Liverpool, though making polite conversations in an uncomfortable suit isn’t what he had in mind.

 

He’s explaining the Under-16 tournament to a representative from Kansai, the club’s official paint sponsor – who knew Liverpool had an official paint sponsor? But it’s clear the other man has zero interest in what Stevie is saying. Probably another bloke forced to be here by the higher ups. He’s immensely relieved when the other guy waves to a figure in the crowd and moves off.

 

Stevie looks at his watch, it’s only eight o’clock, and the event doesn’t end for another three hours. He glances around the elaborate hotel room; the mayor is in a corner chatting with the owner like they’re best friends. He scowls and downs the wine; he really doesn’t have the affinity for networking and sucking up to strangers in suits.

 

At least they sprung for an open bar, he thinks. He can’t imagine how much worse this event would be if he had to be sober for it. “Something strong.” He says to the bartender.

 

“Make that two of the Black Label, single malt.” Says a smooth voice from behind him.

 

Stevie turns around to see who hijacked his drinks order, it’s a well built brunette in a fine-fitting suit. There’s something about the way this stranger holds himself together, it’s like every piece of his clothing was tailored for the class that’s exuding off him.

 

“I find that this usually makes the occasion somewhat more bearable.” The handsome stranger hands him a glass. “I’m Xabi Alonso, from British Petroleum.”

 

He takes the glass and goes in for the obligatory handshake. “Steven Gerrard. I work with the youth academy.”

 

“Oh, so you actually represent Liverpool.” Xabi says in delight. “I’ve met more company grunts than people from the club.”

 

Stevie laughs, it’s a rarity that someone sounds so excited when meeting him. “Yeah, it seems like it. Did your company force you to come too?”

 

“Not at all.” Xabi says. “I volunteered. I’m a huge fan of the team.”

 

Something must’ve shown in Stevie’s face because the other man continues. “Besides, there’s not much else to do in this city.” His English is very fluent, but the Scouser can pick apart a distinct Spanish accent.

 

“That’s true.” He agrees. “So where are you from Xabi?” He pronounces the name with his bottom lip, the way he knows it’s said in Spain.

 

“Gipuzkoa. It’s part of Basque Country.” The Spaniard explains. “Pretty tiny area right by France. But I came here for university and never left.”

 

“Fascinating.” Stevie says. It might be because of the scotch he just downed, or the way Xabi’s beard reflects ginger underneath the ballroom lights, but he does something out of character. Stevie asks, “Do you want to get out of here?”

 

Xabi’s mouth curves into an amused smile, “Sure, why not.”

 

“There’s a pub around the corner that serves a good house ale. Plus they have Liverpool re-runs all night long.” Stevie says, but he doesn’t’ want to presume too much.

 

“Sounds great to me.” The Spaniard puts a hand on the other man’s back and guides them past the crowd of people. Stevie is very well aware of how warm the hand feels, how it sends jolts of electricity down his spine. Xabi doesn’t remove it even after they’ve left the hotel, but the other man doesn’t protest, it’s as if that hand has always belonged there.

 

~

 

“Want to come over after school?” Asks a familiar voice behind his locker door.

 

Fernando swaps out his Spanish textbook for Biology and closes the door; his boyfriend is leaning seductively on the other side. It’s chaos in the hallways between class changes and nobody pays them any attention. “I can’t, football practice.” He shrugs in apology.

 

“Again?” Sergio drops his smile and slouches. “This is the third time this week you’ve blown me off.”

 

“You know training is four times a week for the freshmen. I really want to make the team this year, and that’s not going to happen if start skipping practice.” Fernando tells his boyfriend.

 

Sergio sighs as the warning bell rings. “Fine. You better clear your weekend for me then.”

 

“I have to help out at the shop on Saturday, but you can have me for Sunday?” Fernando offers.

 

“Just one day?” Sergio whines. It feels like he never gets to see the other boy anymore. The whole point of them going to high school together was so they would be together more.

 

“I guess you’ll just have to make it count.” Fernando yells as he sprints down the hall to class. Sergio watches appreciatively at his boyfriend’s lovely ass. Well if he’s only going to get one day with Nando, he better make it special.

 

* * *

Source: Twitter.com

 

 


	2. We take the love we think we deserve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Running is not freedom, Fernando Torres knows that better than anyone. His unpredictable journey, from Madrid to Liverpool and beyond, snapshots from the life of a boy who grew to be more than just a man. 
> 
> Loosely based on [this prompt](http://footballkink2.livejournal.com/9132.html?thread=3349164#t3349164) but starts derailing, also posted at [ my LJ](http://shangrilove.livejournal.com/). Fernando and Sergio are the same age (I used their real birthdays); Xabi and Stevie are 15 years older. Tweets are meant to be read from bottom to top.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much to [bumpbear](http://bumpbear.livejournal.com/profile) who beta'd this chapter. I feel so much better knowing that my work's been checked. Also up at [ my LJ](http://shangrilove.livejournal.com/4611.html). Anyone confused yet? Any guesses at what happened to Nando (reading the prompt doesn't count!)? Who do you think Nando should play for, Spain or England?

~

 

Stevie doesn’t know what to make of this boy Xabi brought home. He looks a lot younger than he had expected, with none of that sullenness that he usually associates with teenagers. Instead, he just looks incredibly sad. Stevie’s almost afraid to talk to this boy; she looks so fragile that he can break at any moment. Still, Xabi has become incredibly fond of this boy, and Stevie owes it to him to try.

 

“Do you need help with homework?” He asks the boy who is working through an English workbook in the kitchen.

 

Nando looks up and shakes his head.

 

“What about a snack?”

 

“No thank you.”

 

However, Stevie hears the unmistakable growl of a stomach. Growing boys, he thinks. He makes a nutella sandwich and cuts it in halves, pushing the plate towards the boy. He grabs a piece for himself and takes a bite.

 

After a while, Nando reaches for the other half and nibbles on it. “Thank you.” He says.

 

Stevie sighs. Those are pretty much the only words Nando’s spoken so far. Yes, no, please and thank you. He’s trying, but the boy is so withdrawn that sometimes Stevie thinks it’s impossible.

 

“I’ll be in the living room if you need help with anything.” He says with a smile. The boy nods and goes back to doing homework. Stevie waits for the boy to come to him, it might not be today, but he’ll be there when Nando does need him.

 

* * *

 

 

Source: Twitter.com 

 

* * *

 

“Come on Nando.” Stevie yells as he barges into the teen’s room. He throws the curtain open to reveal miserable Merseyside weather, stormy skies though the ground is still dry. Hopefully it will remain that way for another couple of hours. “We don’t want to be late to the game.”

 

Nando groans but grudgingly sits up. He has never been and will never be a morning person. However, it’s impossible to ignore Stevie who is absolutely radiating enthusiasm.

 

“I can’t wait to teach you all the Liverpool chants.” The Scouser smiles as he ushers his young charge into the bathroom. “I have a surprise for you when you come out!”

 

Nando gets into the shower and feels the warm water wake him up. He runs his fingers through his hair, or what’s left of it. Xabi took him to the barbershop earlier in the week for a trim and he had asked for it to be cropped as short as possible. There’s barely any there to warrant using shampoo.

 

He steps out of the shower and dries off quickly. He doesn’t want to be late and spoil Stevie’s excitement. Nando examines himself in the mirror as he brushes his teeth. The teen staring back at him looks like a stranger, he would’ve never imagined looking like this. Gone were the soft eyes covered by floppy bangs, with his military style buzz cut and sharp cheekbones he could pass for a junior cadet. Not that he would ever join the army, he detests violence of any kind.

 

Nando tries a smile and instantly winces at how terrible it is. Everyone about his face looks completely forced and muscles around his mouth feel foreign to him. He hopes that if he tries his best Stevie will be fooled enough. The poor man has been trying extra hard to cheer him up and he appreciates the sentiment, but he just doesn’t have it in him to be joyful. He’s counting on the other man on being focused on the game and thus diverting attention from him today.

 

Stevie’s waiting for him on his bed when he walks out. There is a package in his hands with red wrapping paper and a golden bow. “To christen your first Anfield outing.” Stevie hands him the gift with a smile.

 

“Thank you.” Nando says politely and stares down at it.

 

Stevie looks at the boy. “Well go on then, open it.”

 

Nando carefully pulls the bow apart, opening the wrapping paper at where the tape holds it together. He pulls the paper off and something silky slides into his hands. He knows this material and holds it up; it’s a red Liverpool jersey. Nando looks to Stevie, he’s only been here for a couple of weeks, but he knows what this club means to the older man. And now he’s being invited to be a part of it, he doesn’t think a thank you will quite suffice.

 

“You’ll wear it to the game right?” Stevie asks.

 

The teenager nods his head. “I love it.” He traces the Liverbird crest with a finger and slips it over his head; the jersey fits like it was meant for him.

 

Xabi laughs when Stevie comes downstairs with Nando. Both of them are wearing Liverpool’s home kit and for a moment he can see them as father and son. There’s definitely a resemblance there. Their hair is the exact same shade of brown (especially now that Nando’s has been shaved short to reveal his natural color), almost bordering on ginger under the kitchen lights. Their eyes are also similar, though Nando’s are a bit darker, although that could just be the constant sadness in them. They’re both the lanky type with lean musculature showing through under their clothes.

 

Xabi made blueberry pancakes for breakfast. Stevie slides four onto Nando’s plate, claiming the teenager is too skinny. He can see how much they are welcomed though by the way the boy’s chews them in relish. He doesn’t want the boy to go hungry because he was too afraid to ask for food, something that’s happened when he first came here.

 

By the time they get to Anfield there’s still another hour to kick off. Most of the seats are empty and players haven’t even started warming up yet. Xabi rolls his eyes at his partner, “You always think we’re going to be late to the game.”

 

“And we were that one time, for the United game no less.” Stevie retorts back.

 

Xabi smiles, Stevie will always hold that against him. “The bridge was shut down and we had to loop all the way around the city. That’s a freak occurrence.” He explains patiently, not for the first time.

 

“Yeah, well now we can give Nando the Anfield tour!” For Stevie, there are no cons to arriving early at Liverpool’s stadium.

 

They walk around the grounds as Stevie gets them access to areas that normal spectators aren’t allowed, like the announcer’s box and the VIP lounges. Everyone seems to know Stevie and it’s clear how well liked he is at the club. Nando is introduced as a relative of he and Xabi’s that is staying with them for a while and they comment on how cute he is. It seems like no matter where he goes, it’s always the freckles that draws them in.

 

It’s early spring, but Merseyside is harsh and Nando shivers in the jacket he’s wearing over his new kit. Stevie looks at his young charge and lights up. He drags them down to the bottom level, which is just starting to fill out with people, into the store attached to the stadium. “You need a football scarf.” He announces.

 

Nando protests, he doesn’t really need a scarf and he feels bad at how much Stevie and Xabi have spent on him. He’s not only another mouth to feed, but now they’re buying extras that he doesn’t really need. “It’s okay, I don’t need a scarf. It’s not even that cold.”

 

Stevie waves him off. “Nonsense. You can’t be a proper Red without a football scarf. Besides, what will you hang on to when we sing ‘You’ll Never Walk Alone’?”

 

“Don’t worry about him, he’s only a little crazy when it comes to Liverpool.” Xabi reassures the teen.

 

Stevie has gone around the store and picked out a couple of choices. “The YNWA is a classic, but I like the color scheme on the crest one, and there’s the original ‘This is Anfield’.” His forehead furrows as he ponders the difficulty in picking between the three. “What do you think Nando?”

 

He doesn’t know about the club enough to make an informed opinion, but the one with the golden Liverbirds clash the least with the rest of his outfit and so he points to it.

 

“Great choice!” The Scouser beams, though he probably would have no matter which scarf Nando had chosen.

 

By the time they walk back to their seats, the stadium has filled up considerably. The Kop stand where they have their tickets is almost full.

 

“Because everyone who has a seat in the Kop is as crazy as Stevie,” Xabi explains to the teen.

 

“It’s a good thing Oracle Ben retired from the stands.” Stevie comments as they squeeze their way down to the front row of the upper balcony where their seats are. “Now we have a season seat for Nando.”

 

“Who’s Oracle Ben?” The teen can’t help but ask. He also doesn’t understand why he needs a season seat.

 

“The crazy old guy who has had a seat in the Kop for a couple of decades. He must be in his nineties and finally couldn’t take the outdoor weather conditions anymore. I heard he terrorizes the staff at the nursing home to play the game for him during game time now.” Stevie says.

 

“Good thing you snapped up his ticket,” Xabi comments.

 

Stevie snorts. “I heard some teenage girl wanted to buy it. I couldn’t let someone like that sit next to us for the rest of the season.”

 

“Nando’s a teenager too,” His partner points out.

 

“Yeah, but it’s Nando.” Stevie replies. “There’s no way he’s going to spend the game screaming ‘I love you’ to the players.”

 

Nando blushes. There’s no way he has the balls to do that even if he could be attracted to the players, in theory of course.

 

There’s a hush before the stadium erupts in cheers. The players are walking out of the pitch, each holding the hands of a young kid. The Liverpool players are impossible to miss in their crisp red kit, contrasted by the green of the pitch. Stevie has gone mental by screaming while Xabi is merely clapping.

 

“Come on.” Stevie gestures to Nando to stand up as music starts playing. “Try to sing along.”

 

_When you walk through a storm,_

_Hold your head up high_

_And don’t be afraid of the dark_

 

Nando doesn’t recognize the song, but the sentiment comes through loud and clear.

 

_At the end of the storm_

_Is a golden sky_

_And the sweet song of the lark_

 

By the end, he’s softly following along.

 

_Walk on walk on with hope in your heart_

_And you’ll never walk alone_

 

Looking around, Nando stares at the entire panorama of the Kop standing up proudly, at the players on the field and finally at Stevie and Xabi. It’s the way their love shines through, love for the game, love for Liverpool and their love for each other. Standing here between them, he thinks he understands what the song means.

 

* * *

 

**9 Things You Didn’t Know About Liverpool’s #9**

  

  1. **He volunteers at the Liverpool Children’s Foundation.** As if being a starting regular for one of the biggest clubs in the world isn’t enough, Nando spends at least ten hours a week at the foundation. He spends most of his time doing what he does best, playing football with the displaced children. Other days you will also see him feeding babies and serving meals. Foundation director Alan Herskew admits that Nando makes sizable donations to the foundation.
  2. **Under FIFA regulations, he is eligible to play for both Spain and England.** He hasn’t been called up for either senior team yet, but so far he has represented England at the U-17, U-19 and U-21 level. While he is still eligible to represent Spain, most Liverpool fans hope he will don the Three Lions of England when it is his turn.
  3. **He missed out on a match due to sunburn**. This sounds like a joke but I kid you not. Nando was ruled unfit for the August friendly against Borussia Dortmund in Thailand after receiving first and second degree burns during training. That’ll be a lesson to use sunblock oh fair freckled one.
  4. **He has 11 GCSEs including A-levels in Law and Economics.** In fact, Nando has publicly stated that if he didn’t play football he would like to go to law school. His dream is to work with underprivileged youth and start a program that will give them access to opportunities that they would otherwise not get. A very admirable goal and he can always rethink that career path when he retires. After all, there is still plenty of time for him to pursue a law career.
  5. **Chelsea tried to buy him for (** **£)15 million**. While Nando was still in the Youth Academy, he was the subject of a 15 million bid by Chelsea. Since he was not under contract with Liverpool at the time, he would have been free to sign for them but instead chose to stay. This move endeared him to Liverpool fans before he was even a regular starter.
  6. **He lives at home with his two fathers.** Yup, that’s right, Nando Alonso still lives at home despite his multi-million pound salary and he has two dads. Xabi Alonso and Steven Gerrard tied the knot in 2002. Most know Steven Gerrard as a youth coach for Liverpool and Xabi Alonso is an engineer for British Petroleum and travels frequently.  Along with Nando, they also live with two British pit bulls named Llanta and Pomo.
  7. **Yes, the freckles are actually everywhere.** See video evidence of the U-21 team celebrations after defeating Fulham 4-1. Content is not rated and not advised for minors.
  8. **He watches cartoons to relax before games.** Nando’s favourite show is Captain Tsubasa, the 1980s Japanese cartoon about… you guessed it, a football player named Tsubasa. He is not the first though, as this cartoon has inspired other football players such as Leo Messi, Robin van Persie and even Spain captain Iker Casillas.
  9. **At 20 years and 38 days, he’s the youngest player to captain Liverpool.** This occurred in March of 2011 during a League Cup tie against Leeds. Captain Sami Hyppia and vice-captain Jamie Carragher both did not start the game. Liverpool ended up winning 5-0 and proceeded to the quarterfinals against Swansea City.



 

 

Source: FourFourTwo Magazine

 

* * *

 

 

Xabi is enjoying the walk back to the house despite the cold. Sure it’s a record low in Madrid, but it’s still much warmer than the winters in Liverpool. He’s all bundled up in a scarf and leather gloves that he’s grateful his husband made him pack. There are a couple glasses of wine in his body warding off the chill and he’s happy to be back in the city of his birth, even if it’s for a short few weeks for work.

 

By the time he’s made it back to his home there are fat snowflakes swirling down making it difficult to see more than a feet in front; that’s how he trips over the garbage bag piled in his doorway. He frowns, he hasn’t been in Madrid for a while but he’s pretty sure it’s not garbage pick up day. He’s standing there thinking about it when the bag moves.

 

Xabi jumps back startled, he’s ready to shout for help. But the lump moves back and through the weak streetlights, he can see frightened brown eyes from a face covered by pale, shaking fingers. It’s just a kid, and he relaxes a bit.

 

“Hey, it’s okay.” He doesn’t make any sudden moves to calm the kid down.

 

Those fingers move apart and he can sees sunken cheeks covered by patches of freckles that stand out against the white flesh. They stare at each other until Xabi realizes the kid’s teeth are chattering in the cold. Stevie will tease him later at how utterly spontaneous he is, how he really is just a softie inside and asks, “Do you want to come inside?”

 

The boy stares up incomprehensibly, so he unlocks the door and goes in first. Xabi leaves the door open despite the gusts of cold air coming through. He’s thinking about what he’s going to do if the boy doesn’t move, should he call the police? He’s relieved a minute later, when he hears soft footsteps and the door shutting quietly.

 

Under the foyer lights, he gets his first good look at the kid. He’s lanky but looks younger than he thought, probably barely into his teens. He has his arms around himself as he looks at Xabi warily. His eyes are dark but rimmed red and there is a dark bruise under the left eye and another one under the jaw, standing out against ghostly skin almost blue after being in the cold. He’s only wearing a hoody, jeans and running shoes despite it being -10 outside.

 

“Thank you.” The kid’s voice comes out soft and cracked.

 

Xabi studies him, “What’s your name?”

 

“Fernando.”

 

“How old are you?”

 

“Fifteen.”

 

Xabi snorts. “Really.”

 

“I really am!” The boy cries desperately. “I don’t lie.”

 

No the boy doesn’t look like a liar, just scared and impossibly young. From the way he’s standing, he’s seconds away from collapsing in cold and exhaustion. Xabi wishes that Stevie was here; the Scouser is much better at handling kids than him.

 

“Why don’t you have a shower to warm up? I’ll get some dry clothes for you.” Xabi suggests. He leads the hesitant boy into his bathroom and shows the boy how to lock the door. He lays out a pair of sweatpants and his smallest sweater outside the bathroom and goes downstairs. He’ll give the boy some space.

 

There’s only a bottle of wine and a half-empty carton of eggs in his fridge. Xabi mentally notes to eat out less and stock up on groceries. He’s frying up a batch of eggs when the kid pads down the stairs. His pants have been rolled up and he’s absolutely swimming in his sweater. From the drooping neckline he can see dark splotches on the kid’s neck, and he knows if he put his hand there, the bruises would match the imprints of his fingers. It’s pretty obvious to guess what happened. Xabi sees white-hot rage for a second, and has to grip the counter to ground himself.

 

“Have a seat.” He gestures to the chair.

 

Fernando slides into a stool stiffly. He’s clutching at his sweater like a lifeline and trying not to look at the eggs in the pan, too polite to ask for anything.

 

“Here, I hope you like eggs.” Xabi slides all six eggs into a plate and puts it in front of Fernando with a fork. “I don’t have anything else in the house.” He smiles ruefully.

 

“Thank you.” Fernando whispers and digs in. He eats carefully, trying to make every bite last, but the eggs are gone in two minutes.

 

Xabi pushes a mug of tea towards him. “Do you have anyone I can call for you?” He asks, but deep down he has a pretty good idea what the answer will be. If there were, this boy probably wouldn’t have been lying in his doorframe half dead.

 

Fernando shakes his head and looks down at his hands. “No.”

 

“What about your parents? Won’t they wonder where you are?” He keeps on pressing.

 

“My dad.” Fernando shakes his head harder, his bangs covering his eyes. “He’ll kill me if he sees me again.” And then the kid is sobbing, curled into the kitchen counter. Xabi’s no doctor, but from the way the kid’s gasping, he’s a lot more injured than a couple of bruises.

 

“Hey, it’s okay.” Against his better judgment, Xabi puts his hand on the kid’s shoulder in what he hopes to be a comforting manner. Fernando flinches, but then relaxes when the hand doesn’t do anything else. “What about a friend? Or other relatives?”

 

Fernando just cries harder. “No, I don’t have anyone.”

 

Xabi doesn’t have a lot of experience with children, and any interaction with them has always been left to Stevie, so he has no idea how to deal with this situation. “Do you need to go to the hospital?” He’s worried.

 

“No.” The boy looks at him with pleading eyes, face streaked with tears. “Please don’t kick me out.”

 

“Shhh.” Xabi says. “You’re not going anywhere. You’ll be safe here tonight. I promise.” Xabi murmurs soft comforting words and promises that he’s not making the boy go anywhere.

 

The boy is still sniffling, but calms down after he finishes the tea. The food and drink has finally brought some color to his face.

 

“Why don’t you go to sleep?” Xabi suggests kindly. “And we’ll figure things out in the morning.”

 

“Sleep?” Fernando asks shakily.

 

“I have an extra guest bedroom.” Xabi explains. “The bedroom door locks.” He adds when he sees the boy tense up.

 

Fernando doesn’t protest so Xabi quietly ushers him upstairs into the bedroom. He doesn’t go in, he waits outside as Fernando quietly closes the door and locks it. Xabi walks downstairs to make what’s going to be a long phone call.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> By the way, I'm looking for a couple readers with twitter accounts who can tweet a question @nando9alonso for a #asknando segment coming up. Please leave a comment if you can or tweet at @nando9alonso for instructions.

**Author's Note:**

> 1\. Sorry if it's confusing, it should make more sense as the story progresses. But in case you are confused, there are time skips and some scenes aren't in chronological order.
> 
> 2\. This will be a media!fic, kind of based off [sings the revolution](http://archiveofourown.org/works/174606) by [meretricula](http://archiveofourown.org/users/meretricula). Hopefully the coding will be kind to me regarding headlines and pictures.


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